We had box seats that Uncle Stubby sent us before we made the trip. My brother, his fiancee and myself traveled to New York for one last visit to the "old country" as our family says. We took the train from Tarrytown into the city for our last night on the town. It was a good excuse to wear my fur, and Grant seemed thrilled about the idea of dressing to the nines.
We arrived early and made pictures at the fountain. The night air had a crisp bite and made the lights from the fountain sparkle...and that's when I saw him. I couldn't move. I do remember Grant saying something about being late, we should go in...but it was all a blur after I saw him. His long black overcoat, the shiny patent leather Bostonians, the white wool scarf...and his jet black hair. My first thought was, why is this man alone? What beautiful woman is waiting for him inside? He was beautiful.
Naturally I began to think about how I was standing--was I close enough to where he would notice me as he walked by? Was my hair crinkled in the back--did I look frumpy in my coat? He stepped away from the cab and looked up into the night sky...I followed him with my eyes as he moved past the fountain. Wait! Wait! I knew I'd lose him in the crowd, I knew I had to follow him. Suddenly my trance was cut short--"I think you stepped in some gum." I turned up the bottom of my brand new Manolo Blahnik's and found a big greasy wad of Juicy Fruit. Grant, being the Southern gentleman offered his handkerchief as I gave up all hope of catching Ernesto's eye.
We made our way inside and found our seats. (I knew I'd look like a fool if I didn't check the fur, I hate being so cold natured. ) I then had time to focus on finding Ernesto in the massive crowd inside the theater. It wasn't hard and it only took two and a half minutes. Third row from the orchestra pit, second seat to the right of the first aisle. I couldn't miss the gleam of his hair from the chandelier. I was overcome with anxiety--I had to find a way to meet him. I knew it was hopeless asking Grant and his fiancee for advice...as they had their own stars in their eyes.
Finally he made a move...I knew I had my chance. Outside in the Parterre, he saw me...he finally saw me. At this moment I knew all the dieting was worth it...I finally fit into my favorite black dress and I knew I might have a chance.
His skin was the color of dark olive oil...and his eyes were black as night. I don't really remember what I said, but he said--"Excuse me...did you drop this?"
(again, I really don't remember what I said) He took my hand and placed one of my pearl earrings in my palm. I think I nodded my hand. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed me very softly. At this point my knees were in the toes of my shoes.
When I woke up, I remember Grant telling the officer that I didn't really know the man, I just met him at the opera. I saw several men in uniform standing around me and I thought I was dreaming. What happened to the man in black? Where was I?
Then Grant told me that I had just tried to pick up Ernesto Gambino. I fainted again and I didn't wake up until we arrived in Greenville.
New York has it's moments...and I had mine.
This story was loosely based on factual events. Several instances referring to Ernesto may or may not include an infatuation with an extremely handsome Italian beer vendor. Many thanks to the Gambino family for their constant support and understanding. Thank you!
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